Behind the Mask
by Corinth
Summary: Different people's thoughts on Elliot. POVs will include Maureen, Kathy, Rebecca Hendrix, Huang, Cragen, John, Casey, Melinda, Olivia, and maybe others. Elliot's POV up! EO. Please R and R!
1. Maureen Stabler

I own nothing.

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I would never say that I know my dad better than my siblings, but I think I might understand him more. Lots of stuff made it that way, but I think mostly it's because I'm the oldest. The guinea pig. The product of the first attempt at parenting by Elliot and Kathy Stabler.

My dad never talked about work if he could help it. He wasn't home tons anyway, and when he was, he did everything he could to talk about basketball or something. It always seemed to turn into some ridiculous metaphor for life though. We all…I mean Kathleen, Lizzie, Dickie, and me…laughed about that. Like the time he was telling Kathleen how to be a goalie but really warning her about the freaks in the world and trying to find out if she was a virgin. When she was _twelve_. I get that things happen, but geez…my dad sure could overreact.

I had more fights with him than any of the rest of us. I was the ground-breaker. I tested…or I guess, more accurately, broke…curfew, and my sisters and brother got to see what would happen. And my parents got to figure out how to act.

It was always me who got the explanations when my dad was being particularly paranoid about something. I heard the most details about his cases, and I told my siblings. Sort of because they were my peers, but also because I didn't want him to have to. I know how hard it was, and is, for him to open up to anyone, especially his family, about what he sees everyday, and if I can save him any pain by just passing along his warnings myself, I'll do it. And I always have.

There were times that I resented his job. He was never home. He saw the other officers more than us. We were brought up fearing New York City. I guess that's kind of smart, but also too much. I sort of feel like we lost our innocence early…but better to lose it by being told what can happen than actually experiencing it. And that's why I can't be mad at him, and the resentment has an end.

I worry about him. We don't see him much. Not since my mom took us away. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. It seems like I should want my parents to be together, but I don't think I do. I know they aren't right for each other, which makes me feel guilty. If I hadn't been born, they might not have ended up together. I was their obligation. On the other hand, I blame their religious views. Only in Catholicism. You're supposed to wait to have sex until you're married, but if you don't, you still can't use a condom. How ridiculous is that? It seems to me that if you break the pre-marriage rule, you might as well break the birth control one.

They were never that happy. They got along, for the most part. My mom was upset a lot that my dad was gone so much, but that's understandable. What I could never support was the way she got on him about it. Being sad that we didn't see him is one thing, but holding it against him is another. I've already said that I resented him a little, but I still understood that he was really doing it for us. Why couldn't my mom see that? Or maybe she just wouldn't. Maybe she was looking for an out for all those years, and his job was the easiest one. It's hard to come up with a reason to leave your husband after you've had four kids.

I'm hoping that my dad gets with his partner, Olivia. I just think it would be better. She understands what the job means to him. She has to, since she chose it too. She knows him better than any of us. She's risked her life for him, and I know we owe her for that. We are so lucky to have a dad as amazing as him, and she has done her best to make sure we can keep him with us. Beyond that, Olivia is just a good person. She's so nice and fun, and…I don't know. There's something about the smile on my dad's face when he's around her that is so different from any smile he ever had with my mom. It's purer or something.

I also know that she has some control over him, and I'm glad someone does. I know that sounds like a horrible thing to say, that someone needs to control my dad. But it's true.

One time, I forget how old I was, but it was when I was in high school, I was sitting out in the living room doing homework until I fell asleep. I woke up when I heard his key in the lock. I didn't say anything, because I could tell he was pissed off.

I heard him go into the kitchen and get a beer. That was rarely a good sign. Especially at one in the morning.

I sat there, listening to him, for about twenty minutes. I heard the fizz of opening a new bottle five times before I realized that I was crying. _Oh, Daddy_.

Then, I realized that I wasn't the only one. _He _was crying. He never let himself be like that in front of us, and if he had known I was there, awake, he would have held it in. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he hadn't let go that night. I wonder if it would have been the final straw after years of cases that haunted him and made him look at us with such fear and anguish in his eyes. I wonder if he'd still be alive.

I think I cried myself back to sleep, because the next morning I was still on the couch. I woke up again when I heard my dad's phone ring from the kitchen. He had fallen asleep with his head on the table, the empty bottles scattered around him.

"Stabler."

Is it weird for me to say that I get a surge of pride every time I hear him say that? That I feel uplifted whenever someone calls me Maureen Stabler, because I know, even if they don't, what an amazing man my dad is?

"Oh, hey Liv. I'm fine."

I couldn't hear her reply, but I could imagine it. It was obvious to me that he was lying his head off, and Olivia could read him far better than I could.

"Five," he said, and I knew she was asking him how much he drank. There was silence again as she replied, and then my dad said, "I know that. But…God, Liv." Then he actually laughed. It was then that I decided how much better everything would be if he were with Olivia, and not my mom. "I'm not _that_ hung over." He laughed again. "Fine. Pick me up on your way."

He hung up and moved around the kitchen for a few minutes, no doubt clearing up all the evidence of his breakdown. He wouldn't want to explain anything to us, or worry us. And he wouldn't want to face my mom's disapproval.

He came out into the living room, so I immediately pretended to be asleep again. I'm really good at looking asleep but having my eyes opened just enough to see, so I watched him as he came over to me and kissed my forehead. He ran his hand over my hair a couple of times, his other hand hanging in front of my eyes. His knuckles were torn and bloody. I prayed for him to leave before I lost it completely. He wouldn't have been able to deal with knowing that I knew what he had done the night before, but I couldn't hold back my tears much longer.

He finally got up and went outside, and I let myself cry, my face buried in a pillow. When I heard a car pull up, I knew Olivia had come for him.

I said a silent prayer for her safety, and for my dad's. Just like I do every day. I know my dad has faults. I know he has a temper and he's stubborn. But I also know that the world would be a much worse place without him. There are so many people who rely on him, from Olivia to Captain Cragen to all the victims. And us.

I've always known that I need my dad. It took me a while to realize that he needs us too. And I'll never give up on him.


	2. Kathy Stabler

I know we were happy once. I remember it.

Elliot used to look like me like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. When he looked into my eyes, we could hardly keep from throwing ourselves at each other. Sometimes, we didn't bother holding back. So many people commented on how right we were for each other.

Even after I got pregnant and we got married, life was good. For awhile, anyway. When Elliot was in the Marines, I had my first taste of being a single parent, and I didn't like it. I could handle it, though. I could force myself to remember that he was serving his country and he was doing it for us. Even if the selfish part of me just wanted him home.

When he joined the Special Victims Unit, I think I knew where our marriage was heading. We survived for years, but I don't think a marriage should be based on surviving. I saw Elliot less and less. When he actually came home for dinner or did something else with us, and wasn't called away in the middle of it, he was distant. He talked to us, but I could see in his eyes that something was on his mind. Something he wouldn't tell us.

He tried for a few years. He would tell me things about cases. I never knew what reaction he wanted from me, but apparently it wasn't the one I gave, because he eventually stopped talking about work all together. Even when I'd ask, desperate to talk to him, he'd change the subject to some trivial thing. Or he'd just leave and talk to someone from work.

For the first few years, I dealt with the pain of losing my husband by focusing on being proud. I knew that he was a good man, and I knew that he was doing an important job. But after too many nights of going to bed without him, of hearing him throwing back beers in the kitchen, seeing him hurt, fearing for his life…being proud of him wasn't enough.

Elliot led two lives, and his life as a member of our family steadily took a backseat to his life as a detective. If they were even in the same car.

I went to certain events with him. Charities and things like that. I'm sure everyone who goes to their spouse's business party expects to be out of the loop on some things. They expect to hear jokes they don't understand, lots of you-had-to-be-there stories…but at least they can hold onto the knowledge that they know things about their spouse that no one at work does.

I never had that.

Since Elliot wouldn't talk about work at home, I didn't know him anymore. He, and all the rest of them, were detectives first, and whoever else second. Since they knew each other as detectives, they had a strong foundation and could go from there. I didn't have that foundation, so I couldn't get around the wall.

There was a reason that Elliot was the only member of his unit who was married, and that reason was our kids. I have no doubt that, if it wasn't for them, Elliot and I wouldn't have lasted as long as we did. And we shouldn't have.

When I was at the events, I would watch Elliot with his partner, Olivia. He would laugh at her jokes, give her this certain, protective smile…he acted like the man I loved, years ago. It's horrible to see your husband with someone else and think he might be better off with her. But who could be better? They work together, they cry together, they protect each other with their lives…those sound like marriage vows to me.

She also had power over him like no one I've ever seen. I don't mean at all that she manipulated him. But whenever he was really upset about something, she was the first person he'd call. And every time he did, a little more of my heart broke off. I would hear him talk openly with her, and remember when he was that forthcoming with me.

I know that she kept him in line when his rage took over. I always knew Elliot had a temper, but it got so much worse after joining SVU. And it scared me. I couldn't have dealt with it like Olivia did.

God, if he had only gotten out of that damn unit. I knew this was going to happen. I didn't know my own husband, and I won't settle for only being the mother of his children. I want to be his wife, but I think the chance for that has gone…sacrificed for the rape victims.

I felt selfish, but every time he came home late with some excuse, even one I knew to be valid, my head screamed, "What about _me_?"

Elliot is a good man, and our kids our lucky to have him as their father. But you can't be married to someone you don't know anymore. And that's why I left.


	3. Rebecca Hendrix

Sometimes I doubt my choice to give up on being a cop and becoming a psychiatrist, but when I talk to Elliot, I know I made the right choice.

I couldn't cope with all the things he sees. It sounds strange for me to say that, because many people would probably say that psychiatrists and other counselors hear the worst things in the world. We do, or at least we are always in the position to. But maybe seeing really is believing. That's not to say that I don't believe what patients tell me about their problems, because I do. But they don't stay with me so strongly. Their voices in my head are easier to ignore than pictures.

But when I talk to Elliot, I might as well see the actual victims. His face, as much as he tries to hide it, is a canvas for his turmoil. I can think of no one else whose face is the first image in my mind whenever I hear the words 'pain' or 'sadness'. Sometimes, when I talk to other patients, I do what I never should, and find myself comparing their suffering to Elliot's, thinking the whole time, "_You_ have no idea what it is to hurt." That's how strongly his grief resonates with me.

I'm not sure why he grew to trust me so much. Certainly Olivia had nothing to do with that. I know she resents me, and I can't say that I blame her. She's in love with Elliot, so of course she hated that all of a sudden he was turning to me, her old friend. What she might have been if she had also quit the police academy. I'm sure she felt like he was replacing her, and Kathy, with me.

Part of me was, and is, I suppose…very much in love with Elliot. I admire him, and I know him to be a good man. But that's not enough, and I'm well aware of that. Nothing could ever work between us, because we don't have an equal relationship. We can't. We worked together as equals on some cases, but the moment he started confiding in me, and I had no intention of reciprocating, we shattered all hope for a relationship. We couldn't have the mutual reliance. I'm unofficially his psychologist, and I can't be anything else.

The fact that Elliot might have loved me too, if only a little, terrifies me and shows me how troubled he really was. How can you love someone whom you know nothing about? I know his darkest secrets, things I'm not sure he ever told his wife, but he didn't know me at all. All I was to him, all I could possibly have been, was the woman who listened to him without judging him. And that's all I'll ever be.

That's fine. I'm glad he found me, if I helped him at all. I worried about Elliot to the point that I didn't sleep some nights. I've been in this profession long enough to recognize when someone is teetering on the edge of despair, and Elliot was so close sometimes that I'm amazed he's still alive. If I stopped him from killing himself, or doing something reckless, it was all worth it and I have no regrets. But I'm not what he needs.

What Elliot probably needs most is to get out of the Special Victims Unit, but he won't. He couldn't live with himself if he did, even though sometimes he can hardly live with himself because he hasn't. That's why Elliot's road is such a dangerous one. There is no room for error anymore. One misstep, and he'll be gone.

Elliot needs support, and needs to give it too. I don't think I've ever wanted two people to end up together because of psychological reasons…until now. I think Olivia would be perfect for him.

They both see the horrors, and they know better than anyone how their partner deals with the feelings. Olivia has helped him out of the abyss of despair more times than I think he's aware of, and I know he's been there for her when she doesn't think she can go on. And they make each other laugh. I can't even begin to explain how important that is for them. They see the worst side of New York, of humanity, and if they can distract each other from that, even if only for a moment, it's an amazing miracle.

And they are equals. They are in this together. I can support Elliot from afar, but Olivia can be at his side to catch him as he falls, knowing he'll do the same for her. Sometimes a broken person is the best support for another, better than a strong one who can't possibly understand fully. And understanding is what they both need, more than anything.

I won't get over Elliot any time soon, but I don't flatter myself that I can help him anymore, and help was all he needed from me. It was all he wanted from me, and all I could give. But I'll always regret that I couldn't do more.


	4. Don Cragen

I never really wanted kids. To me, the word 'child' brings to mind screaming fits, broken toys everywhere, and stickiness in places you never even thought about before.

I've worked enough cases by now to know that my perception of kids is not accurate, or at least not for all of them. They seem to be one of two extremes: bratty, horrible kids that might drive me to infanticide, or kids that are so incredibly innocent and sweet that I don't think I could bear seeing them hurt…even slightly. I can't deal with either type, for different reasons, but it all comes down to the same thing.

Having kids never would have been practical anyway. Marge was a flight attendant, so she was gone a lot, and I'm a cop. There's too high a chance that I'll die. If I had kids and I died in the line of duty, I don't know what would happen to them. This same thought almost kept me from getting married, but it was Marge who died. Ironic.

In light of all this, I admire Elliot beyond anything I could express. Some might call it foolhardy, having one of the most dangerous jobs in America while supporting a wife and four kids…and maybe it is, to some extent. But it's also courageous.

Every day that Elliot comes to work, he knows what is at stake, and there's more on his mind than probably any one else's at the precinct. We're all pretty much loners, apart from him, and we have no dependants to worry about. Elliot has to focus on the case, and I know it can be harder for him. Of course, we all have our weak points. Olivia struggles with cases that remind her of her mother's ordeal, Fin gets really involved with underprivileged people, the outcasts of society, and John…well, who knows. I guess his biggest problem is anything having to do with the government.

Anyway, Elliot has a hard time with the kids, because he pictures his own, and worries about them. I'm not condoning that. Elliot has a problem controlling himself, and staying professional. In a perfect world, Elliot would be able to separate his home life from his job. But it's not a perfect world. In fact, sometimes I think it could hardly be farther from. Elliot needs to work some stuff out, but I never doubt that his heart is in the right place.

As much as I hated to see him in pain, when I found out he was divorcing Kathy, I thought it was for the best. I didn't want him to lose his kids…I can't believe she did that to him…but I never thought Kathy gave him the support he needed. I'm not blaming her for that. It's impossible to know what kind of support to give if you've never seen what we've seen. I'm sure she tried. It just wasn't enough.

I've talked to him about it all so many times. I've warned him to keep his temper under control, and he's confided his fears and struggles to me. I'm glad he trusts me enough…and I'm glad that he lets us all, especially Olivia, help him control himself. He might resent it sometimes, but he accepts it. And that's what counts in the end.

I guess I sort of have the experience of having kids, because I do think of all my detectives that way. Sure, I've yelled at them all. I've thrown all of them out of my office at some point, many of them multiple times. I've been harsh. But I never, never stop caring about them. They are the most important people in my life. We are a family, and I couldn't ask for a better one.

If I had a son, I would want him to be like Elliot. He sticks up for what he believes, even when his job is on the line. He is probably the most loyal person I've ever met. I know how often he has lied for Olivia, and she for him. They protect each other more than they protect themselves, which is admirable. And a pain in the ass. I know that, if it comes down to it, they would pick each other over everything else. I'm well aware of all the times they've tried to pull the wool over my eyes. I always know when it's going on, when they aren't being truthful about everything, but something stops me from coming down on them about it as hard as I probably should.

Their happiness means more to me than the rules. And I should feel guilty about that, but I don't. Because they're my kids, and I'd do anything for them.

We weren't so tight back in Homicide. I liked my partner, and the other members of the squad, but they were never much more than drinking buddies. At the one-six, we support each other no matter what, and without any one of them, it wouldn't be the same. Well, of course it wouldn't be the same…but what I mean is, it wouldn't work. I don't think we could do it.

That's dangerous. But it is the truth, and I don't think I would change it even if I could. Loving people can give you tunnel vision, and you don't uphold your duty the same way. But we know better than anyone that life is short, our job can be hell, and we need to get through however we can.

And if I'm going against my duty by caring about my detectives, so be it. Screw duty.


	5. Casey Novak

I know I rub people the wrong way. Putting up with me can be hard. I'm opinionated, stubborn, and some would say I don't know when to keep my mouth shut. They're wrong. I know when to stop talking. I just don't do it.

Maybe that's why being SVU's ADA works out for me. We're all a bunch of pugnacious know-it-alls. It's our angle, how we intimidate perps into listening to us.

At first, I didn't think I could handle SVU. I asked to be reassigned after my first case. Sure, I won it. But I also managed to piss off the entire squad and I had nightmares about it all for weeks.

Elliot was my biggest help, at the beginning. We're a lot alike. I'd venture to say that we are the most opinionated members of the group, and the most passionate. That's not to say that the others don't care. They just don't get so personally involved, which is probably a good thing. Elliot and I would be horrible partners, because between the two of us, we'd probably garner fifty accusations of excessive force. Not against perps, against each other. We'd kill each other.

That's why Olivia is such a perfect partner for Elliot. She also has a tendency to get carried away, like him, and like me, but at least when her brain is telling her to chill out, she listens. They balance each other, and that's what partners do.

In any case, Elliot supported me from the start. He was friendly when no one else was. I pissed him off along with everyone else on that first case, but he didn't hold it against me for too long. I think he understood that I was scared. I have a lot to live up to. Alexandra Cabot is legend, and SVU is notorious for its perps. It's quite the intense arena.

The first time I ever really opened up to Elliot was a couple months after I started working there. Elliot was working late on some paperwork, and I had just come out of Don's office after he finished haranguing me about something. The last case had been a tough one, and we were all on edge.

I wasn't looking forward to going to my apartment and thinking about it all. Alone. I wanted to talk to someone more than anything, but I didn't want to impose my company on anyone. I was saved the necessity of approaching anyone because as I walked to the door, Elliot looked up. I guess I must have looked as horrible as I felt, because he said, "Sit down, Casey."

I gratefully sat in Olivia's vacated chair, sighing. We just looked at each other for a few minutes.

"Casey, I…." He stopped, because Don had just come into the bullpen. To cover the awkward pause, Elliot jumped to his feet and started making two cups of coffee. Don went to him, said something I couldn't hear, and clapped him on the shoulder.

When he went by me, he said, "See you tomorrow, Casey." His voice was kind, and I smiled to let him know we were ok.

After he left, I sat in silence until Elliot came back over and handed me a mug. "So how are you doing?" he asked softly.

I shrugged. "I'm ok. I'm just having…doubts."

He looked at me incredulously. "Still? Casey, you're doing an amazing job. You've convicted almost everyone."

Shaking my head, I said, "I know. But it's not that. It's…." I looked into his eyes. I didn't have any idea who else I could talk to about this. "I'm having doubts about God."

His expression softened. "Oh."

I took a deep breath, not believing I was about to bare my soul to a man I hardly knew. It takes me a long time to be forthcoming with anyone. But you can't look at Elliot without trusting him. At least I can't. "I was never one of those 'there can't be a God because the world is a bad place' people. Not until college."

"What happened?"

I toyed with my mug. "My friend…she told me that her dad raped her for ten years under the pretense of religious obligation. It says in the Bible to honor your father, and he told her he was teaching her to be a good wife."

I glanced at Elliot, trying to gauge his reaction. It was about what I expected from him- fury and sadness.

"So," I continued, looking back at my coffee, "I started being really mad at God. I mean, what's the point of all of this? I get that we have free will and all of that, and he isn't going to pop up and stop every bad person in the world, but why send us here at all? And now, seeing all this everyday…I hate him. How are we supposed to believe in him when he does _nothing_? No wonder there are so few religious people in this job."

A tear rolled off of my face and splashed into the coffee. I stared at the ripples, unable to meet Elliot's eyes after admitting to him what I'd never told anyone else.

"Casey?" he asked gently a few minutes later. "Look at me."

I did.

His smile was so kind that it almost broke my heart. "You can't hate God if he doesn't exist."

I laughed shakily. "Yeah. I guess not." My hands clenched around the mug. "I guess I hate him, then."

He rolled his chair closer to mine. "I understand, Case. I've thought the exact same thing…I know it's hard. I know it sucks. And I'm not going to tell you that handling the cases gets easier. It might, and it might not. But think about this."

I looked up at him again, hanging on his every word. I couldn't believe he was being so understanding. I'd needed someone like him for years.

"While a case makes you hate God for letting it happen, I guarantee you that some of the victims are loving God again or for the first time because he sent you to help, and they aren't suffering anymore."

I closed my eyes against the rush of tears. Elliot pulled me into his arms and said, "Hang in there. And I'm always here, if you need me."

I'll never forget that conversation. It cemented what I already sensed: that Elliot was a great man, and that I could count on everyone at SVU. I'm not alone in seeing the horror, and I certainly don't have to deal with it alone. I have a family, a better one than I could ever have imagined. Elliot is the brother I always wanted, Fin too, and Olivia is one of my best friends. John is…something more, though I don't know what.

Elliot showed me that we all have each other, even when it seems like everything else is slipping away. We'll never abandon or betray each other; we just keep getting closer.

But if I walk in on Elliot and Olivia making out one more time…I'll hold it over their heads like you wouldn't believe. Or maybe I'll be inspired to act on a long-restrained impulse and take John on top of his desk.


	6. Melinda Warner

A/N: You guys! I'm sooooooooooooo sorry it's been so long since the last update! I've been trying to update since last Tuesday, and every time I tried I got an error message. Anyone else have that problem? SO annoying. Anyway, here you go...please R and R!

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I am forever indebted to Elliot because he introduced me to my husband.

Chris and Elliot met in college. They had some classes together and played basketball with some other guys every once in a while. They kept in touch after graduating even though Chris went into business and Elliot became a cop. For whatever reason, Elliot decided I should meet Chris, and he set it up for us.

I'd love to know how that conversation went. So Chris, you should meet this woman I work with. She spends every day ripping apart dead people in various stages of decay to investigate rapes, torturing, and murders. _Fascinating_ stories.

Well, thank God Chris didn't just run right then. Elliot was right, and we hit it off. I know how hard it is to have a relationship in our jobs. People are either disgusted or too interested. Chris was neither.

He handles it perfectly. He listens if I need to talk about something, but he never asks about particulars of cases. He'll ask if I'm doing ok, and he'll ask about Elliot, Olivia, John, and Fin, but that about covers it. He doesn't coddle me, but I never feel like I can't go to him for help if I need it. I'm lucky, and I owe it to Elliot.

It seems so unfair that Elliot led me to happiness, but it took him so long to find it for himself. We didn't really sit down and talk much, but everyone on the squad was aware of his marital problems.

I can't imagine being in the position Elliot was. It's hard enough for Chris, and I'm not even in danger, usually. For Kathy to know that her husband's death was quite possible must have been unbearable. It would also be hard to have some idea of the thoughts and images floating around in his head and not consider yourself strong enough to help him. And his poor kids….

Anyway, I'm not surprised it didn't work out.

Elliot can be hard to handle. He is quite the jerk when he is stressed out. Sometimes all I can do it look at Olivia and roll my eyes when he snaps at one of us. I know he doesn't mean anything by it, but it's still annoying as hell.

So when Olivia came to me one day and told me she and Elliot had finally slept together, I was ecstatic. Despite his temper and proclivity to violence, he is a good man who deserves love. I also told Liv that maybe he would chill out if he was getting some. She pretended to be offended, but I knew she wasn't really. She was too happy to be.

Elliot and Olivia are great partners. I can see why they would grow to depend on each other to the extent that they do. That case, when the little girl Carly was abducted by her brother, was so frightening…but having Elliot there helped me get through.

I couldn't believe what I was feeling as I left the office after performing emergency surgery with scissors and a pen and shooting Daniel in the leg. I was really jumpy and tense, and also depressed or something…I could never really define exactly what it was. But it hurt. It seemed so strange that life would go on, that I had to go pick my daughter up at school, just like always. Facing her, and facing my husband after what I'd had to do…I couldn't imagine just sitting and eating dinner, making small talk about the weekend and whatever else.

I felt crazy. And I finally understood what Elliot goes through every day. I'm shocked that he's still sane. It was almost more than I could handle, and I only went through it once. I don't know that it would be much better to go home to no one, to emptiness, and deal with the horror by yourself, but going home to your family is almost impossible.

I don't know how Elliot does it all and is still so kind and balanced (for the most part). But he does, and I couldn't be more impressed. We are blessed to have Elliot Stabler.


	7. George Huang

Out of all the detectives I've ever worked with, I'd say that my relationship with Elliot is the most difficult. I don't think two people could have more dissimilar styles of interrogation or simple behavior patterns.

I don't mean to blame our issues on him, but I think he has a bigger problem with me than I do with him. He hates psychologists. He hates being vulnerable and not being in control. He feels like I read into every statement he makes around me, looking for weakness, trying to slap a label on him. He can't stand not being in control, and being 'studied' bothers him more than anything.

It really isn't my goal to diagnose him. I've made everyone else at SVU believe that, but I can't make him trust me. He is sure that I'm going to find out something about him if he opens up, and then I'll report it to get him fired. I wish I knew why he is so sensitive about being counseled, but he is, and I've come to the conclusion that I can't do anything about it. The wall will always be there. I'll never see behind the mask for more than a moment.

I suppose the most important thing I've learned about Elliot is that he is much more open to being helped when he seeks it out. He's come to me several times when it wasn't required by Don. The last time was after the case when Olivia was injured by Gitano. I have no idea why he chose me, but I think talking forced him to face the fact that he loves her.

I must admit that Elliot's suspicions about me are partially true. As a psychologist, I can't help but notice symptoms of different disorders. It's just not my objective. And I don't intend to tell anyone they are unfit for duty if I don't truly fear for their safety.

I don't know anything for sure about Elliot's past, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say he was abused, probably by his father. It's the most plausible explanation for his inability to open up to a man. I'm sure that is part of his problem with me. I know for a fact that he talks to Olivia, and I am nothing less than jubilantly thankful that he trusts someone enough. I believe he has opened up to Doctor Hendrix as well.

If his father abused him, it may have been physical, but I have no doubt that it was emotional. He probably maligned Elliot's masculinity…perhaps Elliot cried…and now he doesn't allow himself to show any emotion. Our parents' words become more ingrained in us than many people are aware of. It is no surprise that Elliot is still affected, years and years later.

Women are 'allowed' to cry, so Elliot feels less shame breaking down in front of them. I almost laugh, thinking about his reaction if he knew these thoughts of mine. I don't doubt that he would deck me right then and there.

I wish it wasn't so socially unacceptable for men to cry. It is medically beneficial to shed tears, and not allowing yourself that outlet after the horrors of this job…well, it's not a good choice. I know I won't have any luck convincing Elliot of that, or any of the other male detectives, for that matter. But I wish I could. It would help them.

I'm just glad he has Olivia and his kids, even though sometimes loving them makes the job harder for him. The one place that Elliot and I are completely in agreement is the victims, especially the children. It tears both of us apart to see childhoods destroyed. That gives me hope. Abuse can become a cycle, and I know that Elliot won't let it continue, not in his family. He cares too much. He loves too deeply.

We don't always see eye to eye. We've had our share of shouting matches, particularly when I end up supporting the defense by diagnosing a legitimate mental defect, but I still respect Elliot. I know him to be a good person, despite his faults. And I know he is in the right place. There are not many people strong enough to do this every day and not sink into insanity, but Elliot has managed. I've worried about him at times; I've worried about all of them, but when I see them joking about John's latest absurdity, talking lightheartedly about normal things like books and movies, when I see Elliot kissing Olivia…I know they will all be alright. Whatever happens, they are in it together. He'll be fine.


	8. John Munch

A/N: This is the second to last chapter! So, I have a really tough couple of days ahead of me…tests, essays, and other such madness…yet I'm still updating because I love you guys so much, and it would make my life sooo much better if I got flooded with REVIEWS! Yay! Thank you for reading! Oh, also, I was considering doing a Dani chapter. So then there would be two more chapters (her and Olivia). Would people actually read it? I am so not ED, so don't even worry about that...it would just talk about how she knows it meant nothing to Elliot, which is what we all know anyway! So tell me if you have an opinion either way.

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When I look at Elliot, I see who I was twenty years ago.

Don't get me wrong. I won't even bother trying to mislead you into thinking I was ever that ripped. I believe Olivia refers to Elliot as "smoking", and that particular word has never been used (not in the flattering way, in any case) in the same sentence as my name. Probably not even the same paragraph.

The point is, I wasn't always like I am now. I didn't used to be a bitter, cynical man. I saw hope in the world. I had real faith that I was doing the right thing with my life, and I thought I was bound to find someone to share my life with, eventually.

Well, here I am…eventually. I'm still working the same cases, except they seem to get worse as time goes on. I'm no longer hopeful. I know my job is a good thing to do, but at this point not all my reasons for staying are noble. I simply don't know what else I would do with myself.

And I'm still waiting for true love. You'd think I would have given up on it by now…I have such a dim view of everything else, why not this? The worst part is, I feel like Casey could be the one…but I'm thirty years older than her. Father Time has a diabolical sense of humor.

In Elliot, I see my old passion, my old rage. It used to be me getting all the complaints of excessive force, though I could never kick someone's ass quite as effortlessly as Elliot. I see the anger rising within him, threatening to spill over. I know that, if it does, he will have completed his transformation. He'll be me. Just a shell.

I worry about him because of that. I don't want anyone else to be me. It's not as fun as it looks to be completely disillusioned with the world. I'd give anything to be happy, but it's just not in the cards, and I couldn't stand watching someone else go down the same path that led me here. If I could build a barrier in front of the path, I'd do it.

I watched Elliot struggle for years. He probably thinks none of us knew every time he drank himself into oblivion, or took out his ire on a wall, but we all knew too well. Especially the captain and me. We've both been there more times than we'd like to remember.

When Elliot's marriage fell apart, I felt a cold weight in my heart. It was the next step after the desperation and depression our job brings. Divorce. Elliot's situation was, of course, different than my own. Kids throw a wrench in the works, but a good wrench. A helpful wrench. At least he has something to look back on, knowing that his marriage had at least four amazing results. But it still tore him apart.

One morning after Kathy took the kids and kicked Elliot to the curb, I caught him staring at me as we sat in our desks in the bullpen. He was rubbing his ring finger. I know how strange it feels to have that finger bare after years of marriage. I caught his eye, and I saw the torment in his soul. He recognized his future when he saw it. He knew where he was heading. And it terrified him.

I don't hold that against him. I couldn't. It scares me to think about how I used to be, and to examine my life, discovering how I got here. I needed something, or someone, to save me.

Olivia saved Elliot. She gave him new life. She loves him so much, and he loves her more than anything in the world.

Elliot has something he can count on now. No matter what horrible things he sees, at least he can still take Olivia in his arms and kiss her at the end of the day. I know that's enough to get him through.

There was a time that I thought it was inevitable that Elliot would end up like me. I don't believe that anymore. It's not too late for Elliot. And sometimes, when I look into Casey's eyes, I think it might not be too late for me either.


	9. Dani Beck

A/N: Ok, here's Dani. Next will be Olivia, and that's all I have planned at this point. I'm lacking ideas when it comes to Fin, but if I ever think of anything, I'll add it in right after John's. Thanks for the reviews!

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It's amazing what a broken heart will lead you to do.

After my husband died, I didn't think I could go on. I was so mired in sadness that I could hardly function. I know I had my captain worried about me, thinking I was going to do something idiotic and get myself killed. I just couldn't believe that Michael was gone.

I was watching the news when I found out. His captain hadn't called me yet. I saw his lifeless body on a stretcher being placed in an ambulance. I thought I was hallucinating. I couldn't even cry.

I sat frozen as his name flashed across the screen. "NYPD officer, Michael Dooley, killed by car thieves." By the time I realized that I was still alive, the news was over and some insipid soap opera was on instead. That's when I finally got the call.

My point is, I was deeply in love with my husband. His death filled me with grief that I channeled into anger disguised as zeal, and as such I have a tendency to overreact and do things that I regret later. Anger is, in my opinion, more constructive than sadness. At least it has an outlet.

I never intended to start anything with Elliot. In fact, at the beginning I wondered if we'd even be able to work together. He seemed to hate me, probably due in large part to the fact that I'm not Olivia. We eventually got a rapport going, but I wouldn't call us friends. We joked a little sometimes, but we rarely talked about anything.

Whatever we had, it wasn't a relationship. It was desperation.

I was hurting. I missed Michael, and the cases were tearing me apart. I needed a distraction, something to keep me going. And that's why I kissed Elliot.

He was hurting. He missed his children, his marriage was on the rocks, and he missed Olivia. He needed a distraction. And that's why he kissed me.

I know it didn't mean anything. Sometimes I wished it did, but then I'd feel like I was being unfaithful to Michael and I'd force the thought out of my head. And I don't even pretend to think it could have worked out between us. It couldn't have, because I'm not Olivia. That's the answer to lots of the problems Elliot and I had. I'm not Olivia.

I won't ever be the same after working at SVU. I used to consider myself a strong person, but I don't think that anymore. I couldn't handle it. I let the cases and victims get to me to the point that I tried to manipulate Elliot into making the decision for me. I didn't have the guts to admit that I couldn't do it anymore, even though I didn't want to quit, so I asked him to make me stay.

I should have known better. Elliot cared about me, as a fellow human being, but I shouldn't have hoped that he would want me to stay. I grew to depend on him, and he depended on me for comfort, it wasn't _me_ he needed. It was Olivia, but he latched onto whoever he could in her place. I heard Captain Cragen call me a body once, and it was an accurate description. I was only filling in for a beloved member of the squad. I was expendable from the beginning.

I don't regret kissing Elliot…I think it helped both of us get through. Despite that, I'm sure he regrets it. That's hard for me, to think that kissing me, even _knowing_ me, is probably on Elliot's list of mistakes he's made with his life. But there's nothing I can do about it. Chances are I'll never see him again.

I haven't heard much about SVU since I've been back with Warrants. I know Olivia's back. I'm sure everyone is thrilled. I don't mean to sound bitter, but it does hurt to be nothing more than a replacement, and a widely disliked one at that. I served my purpose. I sat in Olivia's desk, worked with Elliot, and supported him as his partner. He needed Olivia, and I needed Michael, but proximity made it easy to just use each other. We were both broken at the time, and we helped each other survive.

But it was nothing more than survival, and that's not enough for anyone.


	10. Olivia Benson

A/N: Here it is, the last chapter! I hope you guys like it, and I'd appreciate it so much if you would let me know what you think of this chapter or the whole story or whatever. At the moment I still don't really have any ideas for Fin (I only saw that Rage episode once, a long time ago, so I don't really remember his role), but if I do I will write a chapter from his POV. This is my second POV piece (the other is I Can't Do This, about Alex), and I might try to do more, like for Olivia. Check back if you are interested!

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I could go on about Elliot for hours. Hell, I could give you an hours-long list of adjectives describing him without going into any stories or examples. To tell all those, I would need a lifetime.

If I had to pick only one word to encompass Elliot, however, it would be hope. I don't think there's a member of SVU who does not value hope about everything else. There's not much else, really. We can't be happy if we don't have hope that we are helping, that the world isn't as bad as it seems…we can't keep going if we don't have hope that we are going to make a difference.

Elliot is my hope. I couldn't do any of this without him. I don't know exactly what I think about religion…I've never been sure about God or anything like that…but the fact that Elliot does believe in God really helps me. I trust Elliot, and I trust his judgment. If he thinks there's someone bigger than us out there, watching over us, I trust him. Even if I can't feel it for myself.

After the hardest cases, Elliot only has to smile at me and I go weak at the knees. I find some level of peace in the knowledge that he can still muster up a smile, and that he bestows such an amazing gift on me.

He is such a good man. I know as well as anyone, better than most, the way rage takes him over. I stopped being scared of him a long time ago…I know he would never be that violent toward me, or his kids, or anyone who isn't a perp. And I also know that really he shouldn't let himself get that out of control, but I won't condemn him for it. I can't.

Lots of cops are accused of police brutality, and lots of us are guilty of it. I'd venture to say that all of us go too far sometimes…but some cops are worse than others. Some might rank Elliot at the more violent end of the spectrum, and sometimes it does appear that way. He's almost killed lots of perps…but what exonerates him is the way he handles victims and their families.

There's a reason cops have a bad reputation. I'm sorry to say it, but there is so much abuse of power going on out there that it's sickening. There are cops that will turn anything into assault, as I experienced firsthand in Oregon when I was collared for assaulting a police officer when I never touched him. Sometimes, the assault is legitimate and should be reported, but Elliot picks his battles.

Asking parents for DNA samples when we investigate the rapes of their children is never pleasant. I'm rarely turned against, probably since I'm a woman, but Elliot has been punched, slapped, kicked, and otherwise brutalized. He just takes it. He understands what it is like for them, because he is always thinking how he would react if we were investigating something that happened to Maureen, Kathleen, or Lizzie. He could easily have collared dozens of distraught parents, friends, and spouses for assaulting him, but he never even considers it.

I remember the first time something like that happened. It was the case with the dirty cop, Ridley, who killed all the prostitutes. Elliot and I went to the girl Tracy's house, and we had to tell her parents the connection between the victims. Her mother stared at Elliot for some of the longest ten seconds of my life, and then she slapped him across the face.

He didn't even flinch. I knew it was coming. He must have too; you could see it in her face. After the echo of the smack stop ringing in my ears, I looked sideways at Elliot, knowing that he was in pain. Not from the slap, but from empathy. And it was never a question, he was never going to retaliate against her. He just took it. Not many people would do that.

Another side of him that not many people see is his incredible tenderness and compassion. Sometimes he cares almost too much, and you can see his heart breaking.

There was this one case when I got slashed between my neck and my shoulder. The perp had been aiming for my throat, but he missed since he was running at the time. Luckily. Elliot was terrified when he found me. I had never seen his eyes so scared. I could actually feel his horror. He pressed his fingers to my neck, trying to stop the bleeding until the paramedics got there. I didn't lose that much blood, and the wound was really only superficial, so I got some stitches and was released.

I went out into the waiting room and looked around for Elliot. He wasn't there, but then an elderly woman asked me if I was looking for the handsome man in the leather jacket. I said I was, and she said he had been in the restroom for twenty minutes.

I thanked her and almost sprinted to the men's room, going in without hesitation.

Elliot was at a sink, washing his hands for what must have been the thousandth time. His skin was red and raw.

"Elliot…stop," I said, turning off the water. My eyes were filling with tears.

"I can't…it won't come off," he said softly, not looking at me.

"It's off," I whispered, knowing him to be talking about my blood. "It's gone." I took his hands in mine and brought them to my lips. "Sweetheart," I murmured against his knuckles.

"I'm sorry, Liv," he whispered back, his voice catching in his throat.

"It wasn't your fault." I wanted to take his pain away however I could, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I kissed him. Our first kiss.

Elliot's damaged, just like the rest of us. We once joked that only messed up people end up working at SVU, but we both realized we weren't kidding. It's why we are all so close…like those charms on bracelets and stuff with the two halves of a broken heart that fit together. We complete each other, and the line separating us as individuals is blurred…if it's even there at all.

As a result, I can't keep a secret from Elliot to save my life. He knew I loved him almost from the beginning, and I knew the feeling was mutual. It was complicated…he was married, and I didn't want him to divorce her. I couldn't do that to their kids. I didn't always get along with Kathy, but I know she is a good mom, and Elliot is an amazing dad. I didn't have that, and there is no way I would take such a blessing from them, or jeopardize it in any way.

When Kathy initiated the divorce, though, I couldn't stop myself from being happy. The kids were older, moving out, and they wanted their parents to be happy.

Elliot and I waited a while, but then we acted on the feelings we'd been suppressing for years…acted on our love. It was…incredible. I'd never felt so alive. So hopeful. I finally had a future. Before Elliot, I saw no way that my life would change. I would be alone, working for SVU, losing more and more of my sanity and happiness every day, for the rest of my life.

Now I have Elliot. I'll still continue working for SVU…I couldn't quit even if I wanted to…and it will still be hard. I know that being in love with him won't make the cases stop raining down, won't make the pedophiles disappear, won't improve the human race…but it's enough to get me through. I have the strength to keep going, I have hope at the end of the day. I couldn't ask for more.


	11. Elliot Stabler

A/N: By popular request, here's Elliot's point of view. Please review! I still don't know what to do about Fin, but if I ever think of something, I promise to post it. Thanks, guys!

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My father always told me I wouldn't amount to anything. Sometimes I think he was right. But only sometimes.

I don't know why I even bother thinking about that bastard these days. He's been dead for years, and I probably don't feel as bad as I should when I think 'good riddance'. He was one of those people who should not have become a parent. He didn't hold up his end of the father-son bargain, so I should just ignore everything he ever said to me, but I can't. I hate that.

It makes me feel weak. There is no feeling I hate more than weakness, helplessness, so it's not wonder that I can't stand even the memory of my dad. No one has ever made me feel more worthless or more…stuck. No matter what I did, I couldn't improve his opinion of me, but I kept trying. And I kept failing. It gave me a dim view of life, and myself.

You always hear that abuse goes in cycles. Parents are abusive because that's how they were brought up. I never talked to my dad about it, so I have no idea how his parents treated him, but the fact that I grew up in an abusive household terrified me. When I found out Kathy was pregnant, I could hardly breathe. All I kept hearing in my head was my dad yelling at me, screaming at my mom, the crashes when he threw stuff at the walls…I don't think I said a word for five minutes.

Kathy sure got pissed at me. What brought me back to the present was her yelling at me, telling me that I wasn't being supportive and that the baby was my fault too. Our argument scared me out of my mind. Our first trial as parents, and Kathy and I were both losing it. Plus it broke my heart for her to call the baby "our fault". Poor kid, to be acknowledged first and foremost as a mistake, an error. I know I was nothing but a mistake to my dad.

In any case, I vowed to myself that I would be nothing like my dad, that the cycle, if it in fact existed, would end with me. I didn't completely succeed. I made some huge mistakes that I'm still ashamed of, and will be for the rest of my life. But I know that I did break the cycle, even if I slip up sometimes. I love my kids more than life itself, which is much more than my dad could say. He never loved me, and, if he were alive, I don't think he'd tell you any different.

So whenever I start to think that my dad was right, that I'm worthless and pathetic, I think about my kids. We've had fights, but I know they love me. That's worth a ton.

When everything else is falling down around me, though, even the love of my kids doesn't feel like enough. When Kathy left me, and took them with her…that was the closest I ever was to fulfilling my dad's words and making my life nothing. Forever. I wanted to end it all like I never had before, but I couldn't. Not for a noble reason either, I'm sorry to say. Well, not for a completely noble reason. I didn't want my kids to suffer, though at that point I wondered how much it would affect them anyway. I know now that it was ridiculous of me to think that way, but I couldn't help it. So it was partly for them that I didn't do it. But mostly, it was because I couldn't stand the idea of proving my dad right.

I hate that he ingrained this stupid insecurity in me. I hate that, because of him, I can never think of myself in a perfectly positive light. I know I have to take responsibility for my own actions…for my temper, my stubbornness, my…everything. But I can't help blaming him for starting me on this path.

My dad was wrong. Well, maybe not completely wrong. I'm not sure what I'm worth by myself, but luckily, I don't have to find out. I have people who care about me, and they make everything worth it.

I work for my kids so they can have the things they need and some things they just want. I work for Kathy because part of me will always love her, if only as the mother of my children. I work for the victims, to make their lives better. I work for Cragen because he's the father I wish I had. I work for John, Fin, Melinda, Casey, Huang, and everyone else because they are great people and they deserve to have someone watching their backs. I work for Olivia because I love her, and her love is enough to keep me going through anything.

Olivia has told me that I'm a good man. So many times. Too many times. I'm not fishing for flattery when I shake my head; I just truly can't stand hearing her call me that. _She's_ a good person, and I don't come close. But for some reason she thinks I do. I'll never understand, but I appreciate it all the same.

When I start to give up on myself, I just look at the picture on my desk. It's of Olivia and me at some holiday party, and I'm smiling. Really smiling. She makes me happy, happier than I've ever been before. Happiness and love are the most important somethings I can think of. So I know my life did amount to something in the end.


End file.
